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    Hryjknyk
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This story is for mature readers only. It includes graphic descriptions of m/m sex including kinks and fetishes. Do not read if it not legal for you to do so. 

He Always Has a Plan - 2. Chapter 2

“Fuck,” I muttered when reality set in and I understood I would be going into the store with my face covered in a fresh load.

I looked out the window and recognized the high-end men’s clothing boutique.

He had taken me there on more than one occasion and had introduced me to the owner, a long-time and trusted acquaintance of His. I adjusted the hard bulge in my shorts, rolled my shoulders back, and opened the door. This wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last time He’s had me go out in public like this or other humiliating ways that somehow also managed to turn me on. I have even started to take pride in being paraded around as His, even if it did expose me as the pig I had become.

I felt relief as I made it across the walkway mostly unnoticed and entered the minimalist space. Expensive designer clothes and accessories were artfully displayed for the likes of the typical stylish, well-off male while in town, but I knew full well there was a much more salacious assortment of goods and apparel available upstairs that only men like Him had access to. Luckily the store was empty aside from one customer who had just completed his purchase. He gave me a polite smile then a curious once over and my cheeks flushed as he chuckled in realization. He must know about the elite clientele as well.

I walked up to the register where the handsomely feminine, clean-cut, older man dressed in vibrant colors gave me a knowing smile.

“Aden, my dear boy. Lovely to see you again. How may I help you, young sir?” He greeted me with air kisses over the counter, his voice was soft and coy as his meticulously groomed eyebrows raised.

“I’m here to pick something up for… ”

“Oh yes of course! I should have remembered when I saw the, shall we say, glow, across your face,” he chuckled wickedly and made my cheeks burn a deeper crimson.

He slid a medium-sized bag across the counter with a warm, toothy grin before adding, “You're right on time and from the looks of things, following orders. Well deserving of this.”

“Thank you,” I replied with a giddy yet sheepish smile as I laced my fingers through the rope handles.

“Better get going though, don't want to keep Him waiting. Hope to see you both at my little soiree this weekend.”

“I hope so, too. Always a pleasure, Jules,” I smiled and turned towards the door.

Jules had always been kind to me and never showed a trace of judgment and I actually enjoyed our conversations both in the store and in social settings.

As I reemerged into the bright afternoon sun, I saw Gabriel holding the door open for me, this time to the backseat.

I looked both ways and darted across the sidewalk with my head down, not wanting to alarm the gaggle of athleisure-clad moms, clutching their latte's on their way to pilates. I climbed in and heard the door shut behind me and took a deep breath in the safety behind the tinted windows.

I looked down at the bag in my lap, curious as to what might be inside. He has been spoiling me since the first night we met in many different ways, physically, emotionally, extravagantly, but actual gifts were always given in person or delivered directly.

The sound of the driver’s door opening and shutting brought me out of my thoughts and as Gabriel adjusted himself behind the polished mahogany steering wheel, I noticed the car smelled faintly of Gabriel's musk mixed with the leather seats and my own prepared scents that drove Him wild.

“He wants you to send proof that you picked up the bag, still, um, covered… ” Gabriel said while looking uncomfortable at the order he was required to deliver.

Such a kinky fucker I chuckled to myself. It came as no surprise that He would want proof that I was out in public with a thick load of spunk dripping from my chiseled features. I took a selfie of my sly smiling, sticky face while holding up the bag filled with my surprise, making sure the embossed logo was in full view before sending it. In the past, it would have taken me multiple attempts to capture a photo that I didn’t feel foolish in but over my time with Him, I had grown confident in my appearance. He was never shy to verbalize his desire and attraction for me, His boy. Maybe I had come to realize how attractive I was or maybe it was just pride in being something He found appealing.

Thank you for the gift, Sir.

CC: Open the small box now, boy.

I untied the ribbon closure of the thick, structured bag and saw two black boxes inside. I took out the smaller one and carefully opened it, excited to see what gift it was holding.

"That dick!" I let out a soft cry of laughter when I saw a folded paper towel and a small foil packet holding a wet wipe. I held the cleaning supplies up for Gabriel to see the “gift” in the rearview mirror, making him chuckle.

It was silly and unnecessary but delightfully playful which made the corner of my lips curl up and my heart flutter. The fact that there was another box with an actual present inside didn't matter. I loved how much thought went into his plans, for both of our enjoyment.

Thank you, Sir.

I sent it then followed up with one more playful, letting Him know I appreciated His sense of humor.

<eyeroll emoji>

I used a finger to wipe off the majority of drying cum from my face and lick it clean, savoring the taste of the man driving me to see Him. and wipe the drying cum off with my fingers and lick it up then used the wet wipe to clean off the remaining film of jizz.

CC: You know what to do now, boy.

His response comes with the usual tone of seriousness whenever our game is in motion but I knew that he chuckled fondly.

I used my phone’s camera to make sure I’d wiped off all of Gabriel’s cum then fell back into my submissive role.

Yes, Sir!

“Do you always shoot that much?” I asked Gabriel as I put my phone away.

“Not always, but I wasn’t allowed to cum for a week so I had a big load for this. I even had to get to the station early and edge so we would stay on schedule,” he admitted freely.

“Not a bad job perk.”

“Not at all,” he smiled while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Guessing he told you not to shower today either?”

It took me time to speak so freely about anything sexual with His staff but it became completely natural. I came to realize that all of them went through the same thing, and the freedom it allowed was blissfully comfortable. It took some time to adjust but generally, I regarded His other handsome, male staff more as friends than employees outside of our time going through one of his plans, especially Gabriel.

“It’s been 3 days, I’ve only been allowed to use the bidet and wash my face.”

It was still slightly bizarre to me that something like that was done for my pleasure under His direction and His attentiveness still flattered me.

“Well, you've got a great cock and you taste and smell great,” I smiled in the rearview mirror, “Maybe we’ll get to do something else sometime.”

“Thank you,” he replied “Maybe…” he said with his voice drifting off - we both knew it was not up to us.

I folded down the small shelf in between the back seats. A crystal tumbler, a small glass bottle, frozen marble stones, and 2 fresh lemon wedges were neatly arranged in the hidden cooler compartment. It never ceased to amaze me what kind of random shit rich people have. I put the marbles (reusable ice that would not diminish the integrity of the spirit it chilled by melting) in the glass, poured half the bottle, and twisted a lemon. I tossed back the smooth tequila in one gulp then poured the rest and squeezed another lemon wedge. I looked out the window and recognized the turn we made. We would be there in less than ten minutes

I pulled off my shirt and took a whiff. Since meeting Him I had been forbidden to wear deodorant. Until then I had mild arousal from other men's natural scents but had grown to love my own natural, musky, masculine smells as almost as much as I craved His at all times. I felt my cock perk up as I took another deep whiff before folding my shirt and placing it in my bag. I kicked off my sandals and then slid my shorts down revealing my stained uniform, the first gift He ever gave to me. Its exposure allowed me a strong whiff of the threadbare pouch that had been collecting sweat, piss and cum since it was given to me. It mixed with the heady smell coming from my pits and the earlier lingering scent from my front seat assignment.

“Damn,” Gabriel moaned as the aroma made its way to the front seat.

“Sorry - but you know I have to do what I’m told.”

“It’s ok - I’ve grown to enjoy it.”

“Guess you’d have to,” I smiled, "So have I."

Looking down at what used to be a white classic jock strap, I remembered when I first put it on, not knowing the beginning of commitment to Him it represented. It was a gift but also came to find out that it would be my uniform. I was required to always be in uniform unless otherwise instructed, whether I was with Him or not. I had a collection of jockstraps and thongs, all gifted by Him with different memories attached and different collections of dried fluids from both of us and sometimes others privileged enough to join. I was starting to learn what his plan would entail by which one I was instructed to wear.

When we were apart or He was traveling for work He would demand proof that I was properly attired in my uniform and I had a brief period of time to send him photographic evidence. It was one of His many games that we’d play when distance prevented us from being together. At first, it was for my own discipline and training but now I knew it was because He loved to see me in it and missed me. And I loved wearing them for Him, especially this one.

This one was special. Not only was it the first one he gave me, the most ripe and worn out, but whenever I was instructed to wear it there was always something significant that followed. I also knew when I slipped it on after my last allowed shower, he and I would be alone for that weekend's plan.

I checked my phone one last time and then tucked it away before zipping up my bag. I stared out the window while idly fingering the smooth box holding my other surprise as we made the turn onto His street, passing the neighboring, immaculately landscaped estates.

I finished my last sip of tequila as we approached the large iron gates that protected a long, private driveway. They always made me remember how impressed I was the first time I watched them open - before I knew of the impact going through them with Him would have on my life - when He was simply a handsome stranger.

p style="font-size:1.1em;line-height:1.3em;"> Let me know what you think!

More to be added soon!

If you want to read the additional chapters already published (and much more) check out my Patreon page - Patreon.com/adencamp

Copyright © 2023 Hryjknyk; All Rights Reserved.
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p style="color:#ffffff;font-size:15px;"> Like what you read? To read additional chapters from this ongoing story and other series on my profile or for full access check out my Patreon - patreon.com/adencamp

Love to hear back from readers - comments and feedback greatly appreciated. 

Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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